


points where lines meet

by notsafeforowls



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Desk Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 03:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsafeforowls/pseuds/notsafeforowls
Summary: It’s the noise that gets John’s attention. The sound of wood scraping against the floor, echoing through the Waverider’s empty corridors, and John almost checks if he can time the noise to see if it’s as regular as he thinks it is.





	points where lines meet

It’s the noise that gets John’s attention. The sound of wood scraping against the floor, echoing through the Waverider’s empty corridors, and John almost checks if he can time the noise to see if it’s as regular as he thinks it is. Gideon hasn’t been moaning at him about an emergency recently, so it’s not Legends business.

 

He waits for a few minutes, just listening to it, and wondering if he can get away with calling Gary to come and see what it is instead of getting involved in whatever the hell is going on now. Almost everyone else is off the ship right now; Sara’s visiting friends, Ray and Zari are showing Nora around somewhere and avoiding Ava, Ava and Gary are both working, and John hasn’t seen Mick for a day or two.

 

He still has the bruises on his knees from the last time he saw Mick, despite Gideon’s pointed suggestion that he allow her to fix them up.

 

Eventually, John gives up on hoping that someone else will deal with it, and decides to go and find the source of the noise.

 

 

*

 

 

He finds it in the library. Or, more accurately, he finds _them_ in the library. Nate’s sprawled across the desk, his head turned so that he’s looking right at the door. Mick has him bent over the desk, one knee braced on the arm of the chair, but in an awkward enough position that Nate has to have both hands on the desk to support himself. John can’t see much because of the desk being in the way, but Nate’s still wearing his long-sleeved shirt, and John watches him slip a little when he drops to his elbows for a second, the soft grey fabric sliding across the wood. Mick all but drags him back into the previous position. And the slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts doesn’t even pause.

 

It’s a little cruel. It’s also one of the hottest things John’s seen for a while.

 

When Nate notices John, he shoots him a grin that’s probably supposed to be seductive. The effect is well and truly ruined when Mick does something that makes Nate groan and drop his head down, his fingers curling around the edge of the desk. The desk can't really slide, but it jolts in place, the legs scraping across the floor.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters.

 

John echoes the sentiment, “Fuck,” as he notices the way that sweat has dampened the hair at the back of Nate’s neck; they’ve been at this for a while.

 

It’s not a coincidence. It’s an invitation.

 

“Was starting to think you weren’t going to show up,” is all Mick says. Which, to be fair, is still more than what he says half the time he’s hooking up with John.

 

In fact, John can’t even remember the last time Mick said something other than ‘fuck, Trench Coat’ unless he counts the time John had earned a ‘don’t fucking choke yourself, you idiot.’

 

“I didn’t realise there was an invitation.” And it’s one hell of an invitation. John watches Mick roll his hips lazily, Nate’s eyes fluttering closed for a second before he catches himself and drags his gaze to John. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and it takes John a second to realise that he’s doing the same thing. “I should’ve known you two were fucking.”

 

The beer bottles, the damn beer bottles he’d found in the bin the first night he’d taken over Nate’s room. Mick’s brand.

 

“It’s not common knowledge,” Nate says.

 

John’s honestly surprised by that. He’s sure that the fact that he and Mick are screwing around _is_ , but that’s mainly because of the time Ava caught them and yelled at them for inappropriate use of the captain’s chair (not that she has room to talk; John had seen the look on Sara’s face and is willing to bet his soul that Ava was more horrified by him blowing Mick in one of the same places where she and Sara had fucked.) Maybe Mick and Nate don’t make a habit of fucking on the library desk unless they’re wanting to be caught.

 

As soon as he’s close enough, Nate’s working at his belt, slow enough that there’s more than enough time for John to pull away or put a stop to it. He doesn’t. He’s only human, after all, and he’s been nursing more than a few fantasies involving Nate. And maybe a few involving Mick _and_ Nate, but he’s not about to admit it.

 

Nate grins up at him. “Mick says you’re a good fuck. Well, what he _actually_ said was you’ve got a great ass and a better mouth.”

 

“Only when there’s something in it,” Mick interjects. The implication of _don’t get the wrong idea, I still don’t like you_ is clear.

 

“But he doesn’t know if you’re any good when you’re not on the receiving end.” Nate shoves John’s pants and boxers halfway down his thighs without even breaking eye contact. It feels like a challenge, and John’s starting to see what Mick sees in him beyond the pretty face. “I’m curious. And, I’m no scientist, but I like experiments.”

 

It’s not the worst pick-up line John’s ever heard (it’s not even the worst when it’s compared to the ones he’s used himself) but Mick snorts.

 

“That’s worse than the one you used on me.”

 

“Okay, in hindsight, telling the pyromaniac that I wanted to light his fire was a bad idea, but in my defence, I was really drunk.”

 

“I was talking about the second time.” He meets John’s gaze. “He asked what got my fire going.”

 

John has to laugh at that. Nate glares at him; it would probably be less intimidating if he didn’t have one hand on John’s cock. And if his mouth wasn’t so close that John can feel his breath whenever he speaks.

 

“It was a totem reference, and if you don’t stop mocking me, I’m leaving both of you with blue balls.”

 

“Hurry up and get to the point, Pretty, or you’re going to be the one being left high and dry.” Mick palms Nate’s ass like the conversation is boring him.

 

“Oh, I can do better than that.” Nate grins up at John for a second, and John realises what he’s about to do a split second before Nate drags him closer and swallows down his cock.

 

John’s hands go to Nate’s head, unsure what to do.

 

“Finally,” Mick says as Nate awkwardly repositions himself so that he can support himself without sliding around on the table and suck John off at the same time. It takes a few moments before Nate looks steady, but Mick still waits a little longer before he starts to fuck Nate again with thrusts that are somehow slower _and_ rougher than before. “I think that was a lot smoother in your head.”

 

Yeah, John can believe that, but it’s difficult to care when Nate’s mouth is on him, hot and wet, sucking eagerly if sloppily.

 

It’s not the smoothest thing in the world. John’s more used to being on the receiving end in this kind of position, rather than either giving end, and he doesn’t know either of them well enough to be able to predict their rhythm. He keeps moving at the wrong time, getting his timing wrong, and Nate chokes quietly before John can try to pull back.

 

The third time that Nate gags, Mick stops and pulls out – Nate makes a quiet noise of complaint around John’s cock – frowning at them both.

 

“This isn’t working,” he says, and John honestly thinks he’s about to get kicked out when Mick drops his condom in the bin and says, “Trench Coat, switch with me.”

 

Nate drops down to the desk again, letting John’s cock slip from his mouth and wiping at his mouth with the back of one hand. He watches them with a heated gaze as John awkwardly wanders around the desk.

 

“Condoms are in the top drawer, add more lube, and if you hurt him, I’ll kill you,” Mick says as he pushes John behind the desk.

 

John finds the condoms easily enough – a surprising number on condoms, probably more condoms in that drawer than pens – and a pump pack of lube. Which is, well, it’s not surprising, but it does make him wonder what the hell has been going on in the library. And solves the question of why there’s a similar pack in Nate’s bedroom.

 

It takes him a few minutes to get ready, sliding the condom on (maybe it’s cheeky to use a ribbed one, but it’s too tempting, and John’s always likes messing with people) and slicking it up with extra lube. He’s not sure whether Nate needs it or not, but Nate lets out a quiet sigh when John slowly presses the head of his cock into his hole.

 

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” John says, but he still goes slow, watching the way that Nate practically melts into the desk. It’s only when he’s in right to the root that he lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding.

 

Mick gives John a nod and a grunt of approval – possibly, he doesn’t look like he wants to kill John, so he takes that as a good thing.

 

That’s when John spots the mirror. Or, rather, the door to one of the bookcases, which has been replaced with a mirror at some point. He wonders if Ray did it, thinking it was to protect the books, or if Nate rigged it up.  It’s at just the right angle for John to watch Mick sliding his cock into Nate’s mouth, one hand on his jaw, the other on the back of his head, not pushing, just guiding.

 

Nate makes a noise somewhere between a gag and a gasp, pulling back a little, before swallowing Mick down enthusiastically, and the John lets go of the few reasons to refrain from this.

 

The first thrust makes him see stars. The condom must be some weird thing that Gideon cooked up, because nothing’s ever felt like this before. It’s like every single sensation, that slick sight heat, is multiplied a hundred times.

 

Sara had warned him not to fuck with _or_ fuck her team, but turning this down would be rude. The biggest fucking insult.

 

Nate groans, the sound muffled around Mick’s cock.

 

Plus, John’s sure that, while it hadn’t been explicitly included, blowing Mick in the kitchen and letting Mick fuck him in the cargo bay, not to mention everything they’ve done in Nate’s room, means that he’s already smashed that rule to pieces.

 

It’s easier to time everything like this. For one thing, John doesn’t have to try and match his pace with Mick’s, because Mick’s letting him set the face. In fact, Mick’s not doing much other than letting the momentum of John’s thrusts push Nate forward a little.

 

Everything starts to blur pleasantly. John lets himself get lost in the sensations and forget that there’s anything outside this room. There are no demons, no monsters, nothing that John has to capture or kill, just two people stupid enough to welcome him into their not-a-relationship. The poor bastards.

 

The only thing that gets his attention is when Mick moves.

 

He pulls back and, for a second, John thinks that he’s going to pull out and come on Nate’s face. It’s a nice image, one that John himself has contemplated a few times – it’s something about the wide-eyed, open-mouthed guileless look that John’s seen him turn on people several times – but it doesn’t last long. Instead, he moves just far enough so that only the head of his cock is still in Nate’s mouth.

 

“Come on, Pretty,” he says, and John’s not sure where to look; the way that Mick’s fingers curl into Nate’s hair as he comes, the way that John’s sure he could summon a demon here right now and Mick wouldn’t even notice because his gaze is fixed on Nate’s expression, or the way that Nate swallows the come without breaking eye contact once.  

 

Mick swipes at the little bit of come at the corner of Nate’s mouth that he didn’t quite manage to swallow, smearing it across Nate’s lower lip. The mirror lets John watch everything from the way that Nate runs his tongue across his lip, to the way that he nips at Mick’s thumb.

 

Mick tugs lightly at Nate’s hair until he’s leaning up against Mick, his forehead pressed against Mick’s stomach. The slight change steadies him enough that John can thrust into him hard and fast.

 

“How’s he feel?” Mick asks lazily, and he’s still playing with Nate’s hair, alternating between sliding his fingers through it slowly and giving it the occasional harder yank. When he pulls it, it makes Nate tense and tighten up around John.

 

Ah, now this, this is new. This has to be for Nate’s benefit because John’s been fucked by Mick enough times to know that Mick isn’t the chatty time. Touchier than expected, yes, but he doesn’t talk during (or after, or before if he can get away with it.)

 

“Fucking fantastic, mate.” John takes one hand off Nate’s hips just long enough to run one finger across the rim of Nate’s hole, slipping it inside just for a second to hear the whimper it draws from him. “I could fuck him all day if I thought I’d survive it.”

 

If there’s a way to die by coming his brains out, he's probably going to find out.

 

John looks down to try and work out how he can get one hand on Nate’s cock, and Mick’s expression suddenly turns wicked.

 

“Do you know he can come from this?” he asks, and he speaks just a little louder. “You don’t need to put a hand on him. He’ll come on your cock like he was made for it and thank you after. It’s his party trick.”

 

It’s not quite conscious, the way that John finds himself fucking Nate harder and faster. Nate fucking _whines_ under John, and he’s suddenly so tight around his cock that John almost comes right then and there.

 

And then Mick looks him right in the eye and says, “It’s going to be you over this desk the next time, and we’re going to make you scream.”

 

It’s more than enough to push John over the edge.

 

 

*

 

 

“We should have warned him about the condoms.”

 

“I don’t think all that was the condom, Pretty. Besides, Gideon never told us about the freaky future tech in them when she made them.”

 

 

*

 

 

“That’s one hell of a party trick,” John manages, slumped in the chair with his pants still around his ankles.

 

He’s not sure when Nate managed to peel himself off the desk, but he’s sitting on the edge of it now, fully dressed, and looking more than a bit sheepish. He goes bright red at the mention of his little trick and mutters something about sensitivity and John catches something that sounds like ‘sometimes more than once’ and, fuck, maybe John’s going to have to do this again.

 

“I meant it,” Mick says. He’s found a bottle of beer… somewhere… possibly from the kitchen while John had been trying to put his brain back together. He holds it in one hand while he passes John a lit cigarette with the other. “You’re going to be the one over that desk the next time.”

 

John nods before he takes a long drag. Yeah, that sounds good. Except…

 

“Maybe we use the normal condoms the next time.”

 

He’s pretty sure that Gideon wouldn’t kill him, no matter how many comments she makes about his smoking, but he’s not really sure if he wants to find out if it’s possible to come to death.

 

John’s spent too long avoiding demons that kill during sex to die that way.


End file.
